


most days i don't recognize me

by strictlybecca



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9155149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlybecca/pseuds/strictlybecca
Summary: They’re “the Colonel’s boys” before they’re ever really anything else. They grow up, not in each other’s shadow, but toeing the outline of their father’s, testing it for weaknesses.(Alternatively: the one where Noah has a twin brother.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SugdenLovesDingle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugdenLovesDingle/gifts).



> for dearest bijou1986 for the Nuke Anon Secret Santa, in response to the prompt "Noah has a twin, Luke has trouble/his own special way (your pick) to tell them apart."
> 
> the prompt picked me up and ran for the hills so i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> title from "she used to be mine" from waitress the musical.

The night they leave home - for a given definition of the word “home” because the apartment at the army base they were staying at hadn’t been theirs for longer than a few months - is a cold one. They don’t speak much to each other as they cram their duffels into the back of Noah’s pickup, their heavy breathing the only sounds under the dense, dark sky. They aren’t sneaking; there’s no need because the Colonel is out for the entire evening at some event for officers and won’t be back till late.

Late gives them just enough time to collect their backpacks from under their bunks, their college acceptance letters from their hiding place above the inside of their closet’s doorframe, and the secret copy of the keys to Noah’s truck from the back of the computer tower of the ancient old desktop the Colonel keeps in the family room.

Noah doesn’t ask Eli if he’s ready once they’re in the truck, Noah’s keys dangling from the ignition. The neighborhood is quiet and it would be all too simple to undo every step they’ve taken tonight and pretend like they haven’t been waiting for this night for weeks, like they haven’t been planning to leave since the Colonel told Elijah that the only way his son would go to college was over his dead body.

_“Elijah’s not meant for it, sir,” Noah says to his father, more breathless than he’d like. “You know it, I know it.” **I’m enlisting** , he wants to scream. Leave Eli be, let him get out of here, away from us, away from you. “He wouldn’t get through basic. Maybe thinking about letting him-” _

_The Colonel gives Noah such a look of incredulity and disgust that Noah has to work not to flinch. “Tell Eli we’re going to the enlistment office the second after graduation, and that’s final.”_

Noah doesn’t ask Eli if he’s ready, but he does look at him, inspecting the all too familiar features for hesitation or second thoughts. “Turn the key, Noah,” Elijah says dryly, the first full sentence Noah hears from his twin the whole evening. “We’ve got a ways to get by midnight.”

And it’s true and they do, and so Noah turns the key and they slip through the streets of Fort Leonard Wood like this is any old ride. They don’t see a soul on the base and the men at the gate wave them by without a second glance. There’s a beat and a breath and then - hand over hand, Noah makes the turn, the turn away from the base and their apartment and their father, the turn away from the suffocating, oppressive weight of silence.

_Two dark haired young men stand shoulder to shoulder, identical sets of blue eyes staring forward. Both of their mouths are set in grim lines, aiming for expressionless and landing somewhere around poorly hidden frustration._

_“And you’ll stand there until I say you can come in,” the Colonel shouts from just inside the back door._

_It’s cold and it’s just about snowing and Noah knows they’ll be out here for at least an hour, at least until someone might see them and the Colonel can’t risk that. Fort Leonard Wood was a promotion of a move for their father, he’s still got to present that facade of normalcy and pristine perfection to anyone with eyes._

_The fury roils in Noah’s stomach and he knows Eli is gritting his teeth against saying something unwise. “Soon,” Noah murmurs, instead of any of the other things rolling around in his mind. “We’re gone. Soon.”_

_He feels the tension leave Eli’s shoulders and knows it was the right thing to say. “Soon,” Eli murmurs back, like a promise. Noah feels it deep in his chest and lets out a long, shaky breath. **Soon.**_

They only stop hours later when Eli says they should get the truck off the road in case their father’s gotten home and has the cops looking for them. 

“Cheapest hotel by here is 55 bucks a night,” Noah says as they fill up at a gas station. Eli makes a face at him through the window where he’s pumping the gas. “Yeah,” Noah agrees absently. 

There’s a beat of silence and then at the same moment Noah opens his mouth, Eli sticks his head through the window with a curious expression - together they ask, “Campground?” to each other. Noah jams a hand in Eli’s face before he can call ‘jinx’ and make Noah do something dumb and unadvised as usual and they briefly wrestle until the pump beeps at them. 

They find one not too far away with the help of the half asleep teenage boy behind the counter of the gas station and they pull in until they can’t be seen from the road. The tires crunch over the dirt and gravel trail. The moon is so round and bright in the sky that Noah flicks off their lights with little difference to what’s visible. They stare out at the tiny pond together, shoulders pressed close. It reminds Noah of all the other times he and Eli have stood like this, readying themselves against the world - against their father.

_Two knobbly-kneed boys stand shoulder to shoulder, the same resolute slant to their mouths. They have none of the hard edges of men at twelve years old, but there is something in the steady lines of their shoulders and the determined set of their jaws that hint at the men they will become._

_“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Elijah murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes quickly flicking over the form of their father across the yard._

_“We absolutely did,” Noah mutters back, fists clenched, eyes forward in an unseeing gaze. “But it was my fault so-”_

_“Shut up,” Eli whispers before flicking his eyes forward like Noah – their father is turning back towards them. “We didn’t do anything bad, I meant. Just broke one of the Colonel’s rules and-”_

_“Shut up,” Noah grinds out. “Shut up shut up sh-”_

_“Attention!” They snap to quickly, young spines creaking with the effort of bearing the weight of their father’s gaze and disapproval._

“Noah…” Eli starts quietly, before trailing off. Noah glances over, waiting. “Think we’d already be in Evanston if I was driving instead of your grandma-ass?”

Noah chokes on his laughter, face splitting into a full dimpled grin as he hauls an arm around his brother’s neck as he forces Elijah to endure the well deserved torture of a noogie. Eli is squawking and laughing and Noah doesn’t relent until he begs forgiveness. “You’re an asshole,” Noah says affectionately, letting Eli up from where he had him awkwardly pinned to the truck’s bench seat. “And, well, I… I-”

“Stop,” Eli groaned, flopping his arm against Noah’s chest and shoving him a bare centimeter away. “I know, Noah.” He sent a half grin his brother’s way. “Me too, you asshole. Now go to sleep. We’re moving again at 0600 and I’m driving this time.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So how do I tell you and your brother apart?” Luke asks one Sunday afternoon, perched on top of one of the quarter fed dryers down in the basement of their apartment.

They’re “the Colonel’s boys” before they’re ever really anything else. They grow up, not in each other’s shadow, but toeing the outline of their father’s, testing it for weaknesses. There are none - because as far as the Colonel is concerned, his boys will fit perfectly in the boxes he’s carved for them, the little coffins of identity he’s picked out specially. Noah finds strength in the press of Eli’s shoulder to his, perfectly even, and in reading the expression of his brother’s face like a mirror, but even then they’re called the Colonel’s twins before they’re called brothers.

“The boys are great at football,” the Colonel says and Noah can’t remember the last time they played. “They’re more than ready to enlist once they graduate high school,” and Noah can’t imagine dreading anything more. “They’re playing the field at school with all those girls,” and Noah wishes it were true, that he felt something more than the desperate desire to fit in whenever Lily in Chemistry smiled at him over her textbook.

The worst part is, Noah finds himself adjusting - squeezing and altering parts of himself to fit the mold the Colonel is building in his mind of what a good son, a perfect son looks like to him. And Noah’s not alone; he and Elijah force themselves to talk sports they don’t like and ask out girls to school dances and he finds himself wanting to ask - do you like this, or do I? Is this your favorite, or is it mine? And he hates when he knows the answer is: _neither of us, this isn’t ours, it never was._

So when freedom descends - and it absolutely descends on them, like the angry hand of a god Noah’s not sure he believes in - Noah and Elijah are a little bit at a loss. There’s no word that the Colonel is looking for them, and no news of it ever reaches them in Oakdale or Evanston. Eli keeps an eye on some police blotters online but they begin to admit that there is no real way their father could have even known to look for them in Illinois. The Colonel never caught a glimpse of Noah’s Northwestern acceptance, or of Eli’s Oakdale University letter, so whether or not they’re ready for it, they’ve got more freedom than they know what to do with.

Noah might be a planner, or as Elijah affectionately calls him: _neurotic as hell_ , but Eli’s the one with the head for numbers and so he crunches them and delivers news that sends Noah into a planning spiral.

“We’ve got enough saved up to last us a week of living in the truck without much trial,” Eli says, tapping his pen in a way that Noah has always found incredibly obnoxious. “But we need jobs, preferably as soon as possible, and we need an apartment. If we find a place together, we’ll be able to save a little from both of our financial aid packages if we’re paying rent and not paying separate room and board to the colleges.”

Noah’s mind immediately makes a to do list and he starts pursuing apartment leads within the day. It helps that he and Eli are clean cut, all-American types, that Noah automatically says please and thank you, a deferential or bashful sir and ma’am after every third word. It _doesn’t_ help that he and Eli are jobless and without much money for a security deposit or without references, but with a little luck, Noah thinks he’s found a place worth putting up nearly every last cent of their savings in securing it.

“You should do most of the talking,” Eli says as they wander towards the apartment building - it’s on the edge of Oakdale and Evanston, a decent drive for Noah to school but an easy walk to classes for Eli and work for Noah. Eli scored a job at one of the Oakdale University libraries, because they always need an extra hand or two in the summer when their student workers go away, and Noah found one at Java, a coffee place that doesn’t seem to be trying too hard. “I’ll hang back.”

“What?” Noah asks, a little confused.

“You charm old ladies,” Elijah says, like this is just an accepted fact that everyone knows about Noah. It is _not_. _Noah_ doesn’t know this about himself. This is definitely something he would’ve known about himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are like catnip to little old ladies,” Eli says, raising an eyebrow. “Have you never noticed this? Since literally forever.”

“You’re insane,” Noah says, but Mrs. Jackson is a nice old lady who clearly absolutely adores Noah and Noah tries to ignore the crowing grin from his brother as they both sign the lease while sitting at her kitchen table, her three cats curled up on various parts of Noah’s body and having drunk three cups of tea a piece.

It’s a good place, a solid first apartment - honestly, probably leagues better than either of them could have anticipated. Living in the truck had not been not the best of times for them, lanky and long limbed as they both are, and it makes walking into the two bedroom apartment in comparison seem positively palatial. Noah doesn’t fight the tug of Eli’s hand as he pulls him down to just lay on the empty wood floor. They both sprawl out, elbows knocking, sneakers squeaking as they shift and stare at the ceiling where the shadows of early evening are playing out in the kind of light Noah wishes he could catch on film. They don’t have any furniture yet or even mattresses, but that’s all to come eventually, Noah knows. For a second it’s just the two of them in the perfect near-quiet that old buildings have, where the gentle creaks and groans of the old place seem to blend into a hum that makes everything beyond its walls feel softer and out of focus, too far away to worry about.

“We did it,” Eli says, a murmur just loud enough to hear over that hum.

“We did,” Noah responds, and can’t help but wonder - _so what next?_

 

-

 

Luke moves into the apartment building in May. He meets Elijah first, but only by a minute - it’s probably for the best though, Noah thinks as he watches Luke slip inside the apartment just down the hall from theirs, because all Noah can do is stop and stare and swallow his tongue while trying to choke out his name to introduce himself.

“Smooth,” Eli says a half second later into the quiet. “Nailed it.”

Heat blossoms on Noah’s cheeks and he doesn’t even turn to look at his brother, muttering, “Asshole,” before disappearing back into their apartment to pretend like he isn’t planning on burying his head in the couch cushions and never resurfacing.

Luke is - he is _bright._ That's the best word Noah can come up for him, bright and beautiful and altogether out of Noah’s league. For one, Luke’s door already has a little rainbow flag taped to it and Noah hasn't told a soul outside of Elijah about being attracted to men.

_Two lumps of blankets and cushions are settled shoulder to shoulder on the shitty couch in the crappy apartment the Army had supplied for them. “This better not be Nick and Nora again,” murmurs one lump to the other._

_“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” mutters the other lump. “You lost the bet and this is your punishment.”_

_“You said **some** old movie, not the same damn one I’ve seen a hundred times, Noah! We’ve watched The Thin Man at least-”_

_“Shut up, Nora’s back,” Noah says, shoving some popcorn in Eli’s face and managing to drop it all over the blanket. The movie plays for at least another five minutes before there are any additional interruptions, but finally Elijah breaks the silence._

_“Okay, so fess up, No.” Noah makes a questioning noise that Eli deciphers easily as ‘I’m pretending like I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ “You pull out your favorite movie, you build me a blanket fort, you pop popcorn without trying to make me do it - spill. Fess up, what’s going on? Because something’s going on.”_

_There’s a shuddery breath from beside him and all of Elijah’s senses are on high alert. He doesn’t say anything, knowing Noah comes to things in his own time - but he doesn’t have to wait very long before Noah is burying himself deeper in his blanket and saying in a cracked and creaky voice, “I think I’m gay.” He barely gets his lips around the sounds but Elijah understands him perfectly._

_There’s a long pause, even longer than Noah’s, before Elijah just says, “Fuck.” A heartbeat later, Elijah feels Noah freeze up beside him, knows without looking what expression is on his brother’s face and he hurries to add, “That’s totally fine with me, I don’t care who you want to be with, you know you’re my brother no matter what, I just - fuck, I meant, I was thinking about… about the Colonel. Just, uh, fuck Noah. **Fuck** ,” he adds with feeling, letting the realization of Noah’s secret wash over him, the painstaking effort Noah’s made to keep it secret, how much of himself he’s buried. **Fuck.**_

_Noah manages a laugh, tired but real. “That pretty accurately sums it up.” A split second and a breath later - “You swear it doesn’t bother you?”_

_“Pinky swear,” Elijah says, because there aren’t better words to describe to Noah how little his being gay has changed things for them. He wriggles his little finger obnoxiously in Noah’s face._

_“You’re such an asshole,” Noah says, smiling a small, careful, quiet smile, even as they solemnly squeeze pinkies._

_“Yeah, but you love me that way.”_

Noah has no idea if it’s been easy for Luke being out, or if it’s been a battle, or if it still is one, like it is for Noah. He doesn’t know if Luke has family and friends in his corner, or if he’s alone in this. But the flag tells him that Luke’s proud of who he is, that he’s found something that quells the roiling and thunderous clench of shame in his chest, that he doesn’t carry the weight of someone else’s disapproval around with him all day and night. Maybe he has those moments, Noah guesses, but he bets Luke likes himself a lot better than Noah likes Noah. And that means that Luke is just way out of his league.

It would be easier, Noah thinks, if having made that decision, he wouldn’t have to see Luke all the time. But Luke has taken a liking to the twins he lives next door to, and Noah is helpless but to spend time with easily the most beautiful man he’s ever met, who is all sly winks and careful smiles. Luke grins with his whole face, but Noah sees how he holds himself, like he’s just waiting for a sneak attack or a cheap shot from an unanticipated source. Like he’s been hurt before and is just waiting for it to happen again - but in the meanwhile, can’t help but reach out. Noah wants to both get to know him better and stay far, far away - but Luke seems to have no plans to let Noah escape knowing him unscathed.

“So how do I tell you and your brother apart?” Luke asks one Sunday afternoon, perched on top of one of the quarter fed dryers down in the basement of their apartment. Noah is steadily folding laundry, still waiting on one last load to do its run. Despite himself, he likes this little ritual that he and Luke have developed, only a few weeks into Luke’s stay.

Noah considers - it’s certainly not a new question, and Noah has some canned answers that may or may not have been helpful to people in the past. Noah’s a half inch taller, but with Eli’s often crazy messy hair, it’s not that noticeable. Eli’s got a birthmark on his forearm, a splotch shape that they’ve likened to a slightly stretched Australia. Probably most helpful of all is -

“I’ve got a freckle,” Noah says, turning to face Luke, tilting his head back just a bit thanks to Luke’s borrowed height from his seat on the dryer. “Right here,” he lifts his hand to tap at the approximate spot above his left eyebrow - and when Luke squints, he takes a step closer, and then another. Until he’s close enough that Luke can raise a hand to gently press one fingertip to the spot and Noah’s lungs feel tight in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. “And Eli doesn’t,” he finishes, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as hoarse as it feels. Luke’s hand drops.

Noah doesn’t say all the other things that make he and Eli different, the things that Noah’s tried to narrow in on in the months since they’ve gone from the Colonel’s boys to just being them - _Eli’s funnier than me, he makes friends faster,_ Noah thinks desperately. _You’ll probably like him better than me when you get to know him. I’m boring and I take everything too seriously. I don’t know how to take a joke, or make small talk. I think everything’s a bigger deal than it is and I’m too intense for most people. Eli’s smarter than me and better with words. I’d rather hide behind a camera and watch everything from a distance._ Noah still isn’t really sure who he is, apart from his brother, apart from his father - but he knows that he’s probably not someone worthy of dating Luke.

“Is that it?” Luke asks, quirking his lips into a smile and Noah tries a smile back.

“Everything else you’ll have to figure out yourself,” he says, hoping it comes off a little teasing and less terrified. Noah half hopes Luke never figures the rest of it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 + epilogue on their way!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things now that belong to just him - and not just things, like stuff that he owns, but pieces of _himself_ that belong to him now, separate from Elijah, separate from the Colonel.

Luke takes his words like a challenge, Noah realizes. As the weeks go on, Luke stops them both - sometimes together, sometimes apart and asks them questions like-

“Who works at Java?”

He asks just as Noah and Eli are back from the General Assistance office of Evanston, attempting for the third time to get their food stamps sorted out so that they can actually pay for groceries. The fact that they are twins keeps confusing some aspect of the application so they finally decide to do their meeting in person. They’re riding the high of their success, knowing that real food may enter their apartment in the next week, so Noah almost doesn’t hear the question.

“Noah does,” Eli says. “Opening shifts because he still gets up with the sun and closing shifts because he’s a total masochist.” He sends his brother a smile that screams this is my innocent smile notice its lack of guile and Noah has to bury the urge to give him a noogie.

“Something like that,” Noah says dryly, refocusing his gaze on Luke, who’s grinning at him, brown eyes bright.

“Don’t know if I can ever get myself up for those early morning shifts, but maybe I’ll stop by at closing some time.” Noah manages not to swallow his tongue.

“I’ll be there,” he says instead, ducking his head to try and hide how wide his smile is. “I’d be glad to see you.”

When Luke disappears back into his apartment, Eli socks Noah gently on the shoulder, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

Noah continues to field questions from Luke over the next few weeks - “Who do I see running every morning?” “Who wears all the plaid?” “Who sings in the shower?” Each question is an opportunity for a conversation with Luke, who, somehow, for some reason, seems interested in the answers, who furrows his brow when Noah explains like he’s concentrating on remembering. Noah finds himself charmed and stunned and tries ignore the desire to smooth the wrinkles away with his fingertips.

Like for instance:

“Elijah runs, he leaves when I leave for work. I prefer swimming,” Noah says when Luke walks with him to work for an evening shift and Luke asks him when he even has the time to go swimming and Noah explains about his opening and closing schedule and taking classes during the day and doing laps at Northwestern’s main gym’s pool.

“You’re a monster,” Luke says, in mock horror. “You’re inhumanly busy. No one’s that hard working in real life, are they?”

Noah squints up at the sky, “I feel like any answer I provide to that question is going to somehow embarrass me or you,” he says, trying to hide his grin.

“Are you saying that I’m lazy?” Luke’s all mock affront, eyes wide, mouth quirking into a grin he clearly is trying to suppress in favor of a grimace.

“Me? Never Snyder, not a chance. I’m not the rude one, remember? That’s you,” Noah teases, and Luke shoves him.

Or like when:

“Me,” Noah flushes, “I… like plaid. It’s easy. Flannels are warm. Not very trendy, I know, but - I don’t know if you noticed, I’m not really that kind of guy.” He eyes Luke’s shirt. “Stripes though,” he says dryly, “Those are in right now, right?”

“You’re lucky I like you Mayer,” Luke says, eyes flashing, his voice half laughter already, “You’re in dangerous territory.”

I know, I know, I know, Noah thinks to himself. I’m in way over my head with you.

Or once when:

“If it’s off key and horrible, it’s him,” Eli says, merciless till the very end. Noah spares a second to consider what life would be like without an obnoxious twin brother before letting that thought go as an impossibility. A world without Eli seemed incomprehensible. “If the shower singing happens to be a beautiful baritone, it’s mine.”

Luke laughs and Noah does too, in spite of himself.

“I don’t know if I’ve heard any on key singing coming from the Mayer apartment,” Luke says, raising his eyebrows. “It’s all very… not good,” he finishes, less than diplomatically. He pauses to let Eli toss his cup of coffee into the trash can along the sidewalk where they are walking together back to the apartment.

Once free of the burden of his Java cup, Eli does a great impression of put-upon distress, flapping his hand against his forehead in agitation. “You, Luke Snyder, are an asshole,” he declares dramatically.

“So, you’ll fit in just fine around here then,” Noah says dryly, “And if the caterwauling you hear is top 40s or any popstar ever, then it’s this melodramatic idiot.”

“And if it’s big band, jazz, Ella Fitzgerald, Etta James, yada yada, then it’s this one.”

Luke raises his eyebrows, “Ella Fitzgerald? Not the standard shower playlist, Mayer.”

“I like old fashioned things,” Noah shrugs, “I’m kind of a nerd about old music and old films-” Eli mouths _kind of?_ incredulously, but doesn’t interrupt. “And I think there’s something to learn from them, both in a filmmaking sense and also in a more worldly sense. Things withstand the test of time because they’re _good_ and because they mean something to people, of any decade. They’re about characters you care about and about things that still matter - love, family, relationships, time. Stories that powerful don’t just fade away.” He flushes a little, realizing he stepped up onto a soapbox without realizing. “It’s just, uh, something I care about.”

Luke doesn’t look weirded out by any means. His eyes are a little wide, his mouth open just the slightest bit. There’s a beat of silence before Luke’s expression smooths out and he ducks his head, playing with the edge of his messenger bag. “That’s pretty amazing,” he says and Noah doesn’t know how, but he knows Luke is being honest. “I guess piece by piece, I’m figuring you out Noah Mayer.” Luke smiles a pleased little smile, like he’s glad about it.

And when Luke says it, it’s like a bolt of lightning, a realization that Noah feels down to his fingertips. There are things now that belong to just him - and not just things, like stuff that he owns, but pieces of _himself_ that belong to him now, separate from Elijah, separate from the Colonel. Luke asks him these questions and Noah starts to find the parts of himself that fit, that feel right and real beyond the pieces he’s been faking as his for so long.

In answering, Noah’s been figuring _himself_ out, bit by bit.

 

-

 

“Who likes Ethiopian food?” Luke asks on one of his now routine evening stops by Java. The place is practically empty except for Noah, a co-worker, and a college student who is so plugged into her laptop that Noah’s sure anything less than a Spielberg-level explosion wouldn’t be enough to rouse her.

Noah considers - does Elijah? Does he? Moving from army base to army base their whole lives has given them a pretty decent introduction to a lot of different types of cuisine, but he’s not sure that he’s ever had Ethiopian before.

“Is it too embarrassing for me to admit that I actually have no idea?” Noah asks, pausing in his cleaning of the counter and ducking his head a little, but helpless to keep his gaze from Luke’s. His eyes flick up toward’s Luke’s a moment later, reassured by the sight of bright brown eyes pinned on him.

“Not at all,” Luke says, leaning his hip against the customer side of the counter. “Especially because a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have admitted that to me.” Luke makes a face at him, scrunching up his features before smoothing them out into a playful smile that says _you know I’m right, don’t even try it_ and there’s something wonderful in the fact that Luke’s absolutely right.

“You’re getting to know me better,” Noah says, a helpless little grin on his lips. He likes this feeling - being known, being seen, especially by Luke.

“Well, if you don’t know if you like it then it’s about time that we fix that - Blue Nile? Tomorrow night? I know you don’t have a shift.”

It takes a whole second of Noah wiping down the counter to realize that Luke’s invitation is might be a date. Noah tries not to freeze like one of those fainting goats he’s seen on YouTube thanks to Eli and instead moves slowly, but with purpose. He puts down his rag and lifts his head and looks up at Luke, who is watching him with dark and careful eyes. It occurs to Noah that he’s never wanted anything in his life as much as he’s wanted Luke. It also occurs to Noah that there is absolutely no reason in the world that he can’t say yes, that if he ignores the voice in his head that sounds so much like the Colonel telling him what he is and what he isn’t - then he can have what he wants and there’s no one to stop him.

“Only,” Noah says, leaning forward over the counter, keeping his gaze on Luke’s, “if you let me pay.”

Luke’s smile is so shy, in a way that Noah would never have guessed. But it’s so bright, so different from any of the other smiles that Noah has seen and catalogued and named in his mind. Luke purses his lips, helpless to keep one side of his mouth from quirking up.

“Well,” he drawls, leaning in over the counter too, letting his knuckles brush Noah’s, “I’ll pay for this one,” he says, all mischief and warmth and happiness and Noah has to do everything he can to keep from pressing forward and kissing him senseless, “If you get the next one.”

“Deal,” Noah says, beaming, dimples and all.

 

-

 

“Home,” Noah calls from the front door, dropping his bag in the front hall carelessly, before kicking off his shoes and nudging them precisely into their place along the wall with his toes. He can’t stop smiling.

“Why do you even bother with the shoes when you constantly leave your camera shit everywhere?” comes his brother’s voice from the other end of the hall. When Noah glances up from his careful aligning, he can see the top of Elijah’s head sticking sideways out of the doorway, messy dark hair and blue eyes the only visible features.

“Why do you bother brushing your hair when it looks like a rat’s nest constantly?” Noah returns with little to no bite, in too good of a mood to get angry about a single thing, instead scooping up his camera bag and shuffling down the hall in his socks.

“For the same reason I assume you leave your bag right where I trip over it every morning: because it annoys the shit out of you.” Elijah’s words carry through the open door of the kitchen, even as he stands at the stove, his back to the hall. Noah watches him from the doorway for a few seconds before his good mood spills over and he can’t hold it in anymore.

“I have a date,” Noah says, without warning, just to see Eli’s reaction. He’s not disappointed.

Elijah drops the spoon he’s holding and it clatters into the sink. He whirls around, eyes wide, mouth agape. “You do?” His gaze goes right to Noah’s face and he makes a noise like a foghorn, “ _Yeah_ , you do! That’s right! That’s my brother!” He whoops and barrels towards Noah, who is already cracking up and calling him an asshole. Eli loops his arms around Noah’s middle and lifts him like Noah’s made the game winning touchdown. Noah’s shouting at him to put him down, but they’re both laughing too hard to make much sense, and Eli trips and drops them both to the ground a split second later.

“You’re such an asshole,” Noah repeats, from his spot on the floor, shoving his brother away from him, chest still heaving with laughter. “It’s just a date.”

“Yeah,” Eli taunts, “ _just_ a date. With Luke, who you’ve been obsessed with since he moved in. Man,” Eli sighs, mock wiping tears from his eyes, “I thought I would have to take care of you in your old age, your cranky old bachelor years. Thank god for Luke Snyder, man.” There’s a beat. “Wait, it _is_ with Luke, right?”

“Eli, a split second ago you didn’t have faith in me to ever get a date in my life and now somehow you think I’ve managed to get a date with another guy you’ve never even met? Of course it’s with Luke.”

“Luke and Noah, sittin in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-“ Eli doesn’t get the chance to finish because Noah’s attempting to smother him in his sweatshirt a moment later. Eli yelps for help but they only stop wrestling when Mr. Lucas from the floor below them knocks his cane into the ceiling and they both fall into laughter again. Noah thinks it feels like the very best moments of their childhood, when being _Noah and Eli_ was automatic, when it was easier than being _the Colonel’s boys_. He likes thinking that maybe they’ve made their way back to that, finally, together.

 

-

 

Unsurprisingly, Elijah is very little assistance the next evening when it comes to helping Noah get ready for his first actual date.

“Do you even _own_ nice clothing?” Elijah asks doubtfully, sifting half heartedly through the pile of clothing Noah’s looked through already.

“Not helping,” Noah grits out. “You are distinctly not helping.”

“Go take your shower,” Eli says dismissively, “Maybe I’ve got something?” He doesn’t sound sure but Noah isn’t at the point where he can continue being in the same room as his twin, so he throws his hands up and goes to shower instead.

He tries not to concentrate too hard on anything in particular, knowing his own predisposition to overthinking. He tries to find some peace in the ritual of a shower, focusing on the mechanics of his movements and not anything beyond - but they’re out of shampoo and so he hops out of the shower to grab some from the hall closet right next to the bathroom.

He creaks the bathroom door open and hears voices. From around the corner, he’s unseen - whoever their company is, their and Eli’s voices can be heard clearly from Noah’s spot, half in and half out of the bathroom.

“The Colonel was gonna force us to enlist,” Eli is saying and Noah freezes where he is. “Noah didn’t say it, but I knew he offered to enlist, hoping the Colonel would let me go to college. Like if one of us followed all the rules to a T, maybe the other would get off easier, y’know?” Noah wants to walk away, doesn’t want to hear any of this. Why’s Eli saying this? Who’s he telling it to? “And when the Colonel said no, fuck that, both of you are stuck doing this thing you both despise - well, then Noah decided that wasn’t okay, and that we were gonna leave. See, that’s Noah’s thing - alone? By himself? He’ll suffer any ill, take any hit. He’ll just grind his teeth and get through it. But the second there’s someone to look after, or protect? Then he’s Captain Action Man through and through.” There’s a beat of silence and Noah’s face feels so hot that he thinks he might pass out.

“So he doesn’t look after himself very well,” comes another voice. Noah feels faint. Luke.

“Nope,” Eli says, popping the ‘p’ hard. “That’s where I come in.”

“Where we come in,” Luke corrects, firmly.

“I knew I liked you, Snyder,” Elijah says and they both laugh and Noah stumbles back into the bathroom, ducking under the spray and holding his breath. He doesn’t know why the clench in his chest is making it hard to swallow - nothing Eli said is wrong, nothing he shared with Luke is anything that Noah thinks Luke shouldn’t know. But there is something in being exposed - in being so clearly seen for what he is - that makes Noah’s chest tight. Putting Eli’s health and safety and happiness before his own is instinct for Noah - he just hadn’t realized it was so apparent to Eli himself. _That’s the peril in piecing yourself together, in letting others know that person,_ Noah guesses, _because when the walls come down, and you let people in, they can see **everything**._ More importantly, he realizes, _Luke_ will see everything.

And it’s that thought, more than any other, that makes the stretched feeling in his chest dissipate.

Knowing and be known by Luke is more exciting than it is scary. Just like this date, just like all the best moments after leaving Fort Leonard Wood and his father. The scariest parts have always been the best parts, and they’ve always been the moments that Noah looks back on now and thinks _there’s Noah Mayer, that’s where he’s been hiding_. He’s become more real, more solid and more _him_ in the last few months than he thinks he has in all the years that have come before. And when he looks at his brother, he sees the places where they parallel and where they diverge, he sees the shadows that they’ve drawn for themselves and the places where they’ve excised their father and knows that they’ve done all that work themselves. He knows that ten, twenty, thirty years down the line they’ll still be drawing and redrawing those lines in the sand, mapping themselves and each other and where they fit and where they don’t, but honestly, Noah’s looking forward to it.

He turns the shower off and a moment later, hears a knock at the door. He opens it the smallest bit and sees a familiar blue eye peering back through.

“So, I got lazy and asked Luke for help in picking out your clothes for your date,” Elijah says, and Noah can’t help the snort that escapes. “And he said these, so here you go.” Elijah hands them off through the crack in the door and smiles cheerfully like he’s been helpful and not a huge embarrassment, which has always been his area of expertise as a brother.

“You’re ridiculous _and_ you’re an asshole,” Noah says, and Eli beams even wider. “Tell Luke I’ll be out in a second and if you tell him anything embarrassing, I’m taking you down with me.”

“That’s the Mayer way,” Eli agrees with mock solemnity, his grin peeking through - and Noah laughs again, because he’s right, because he and Eli will get to decide what the Mayer way means for all the years to come, and he’s pretty excited about it.

He tries to describe the feeling to Luke when they’re at dinner awhile later and he’s sure he’s falling horrifically short and that he’s not making an iota of sense, but Luke’s nodding fervently as he speaks. “I know exactly what you mean, Noah. Finding that place where it’s you and not your name, where you know it’s not your family or your parents or anything else speaking for you when you open your mouth - I get it.” Luke smiles and Noah can’t help but smile back, “I’m excited for you too, for everything that’s to come.”

 _You’ll be there to see it,_ Noah promises in his mind, to Luke and to himself. _I want you there for all of it._ He doesn't say it just yet, but there's no doubt in his mind that Luke will be there with him for all the next and new things to come. Instead he reaches out, linking his fingers with Luke's and squeezing. _Soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just the epilogue left! it got a little out of hand ;____;


	4. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He imagines that old truck he had at 18, the _tick tick_ sound of the turn signal right before he and Eli took that left off the army base, toward Illinois, toward college, toward freedom, _toward Luke_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an epilogue the same way an armadillo is a person, which is to say, not at all. it's longer than most of the other chapters but once i got going i couldn't stop. (i've always wanted to write a wedding!) but we made it!
> 
> thanks for your patience bijou while i waded my way through the world that resulted from your fantastic prompt. i had a ball! hopefully this epilogue gets you all the fluff you wanted that i absolutely did not manage in the first three chapters of the fic. <333

Two men stand shoulder to shoulder, outfitted in the best and most expensive clothes either of them have ever worn in their lives, their spines ramrod straight as they stare out at the crowd of people. “Smile, are you smiling? You better be smiling,” one says out of the corner of his mouth, attempting to speak and smile at the same time.

“Of course I’m smiling, it’s my wedding day. Why wouldn’t I be smiling?” Noah asks exasperatedly, turning to stare his brother down.

“Don’t look at me, look down the aisle!” Eli hisses, looking more nervous than Noah feels.

“You’re insane,” Noah mutters, but turning back obediently, “Would you just let me enjoy this? Why are you being so weird about this?” He can see Dusty staring both of them down from his spot in the front row, knowing without words that he’s wishing he could grab them both by the ears and tell them to stop acting like children. Dusty’s role as father-figure in their lives had happened gradually but now, years down the line, Noah’s not sure what they’d do without him.

_Dusty’s blinking at them, from across the table Noah had especially reserved at Lakeview. “I just figured you’d want me as an usher, or something,” he says, a little gruff. “You don’t have to-“_

_“Dusty, you and Eli are walking me down the aisle,” Noah repeats firmly. “If you don’t want to, that’s another thing, but that’s what I want so that’s what I’m asking for.”_

_“Did you have anything to do with this, kid?” Dusty narrows his gaze at Eli, who’s been inhaling the free bread like he’ll die without it._

_“Huh? No, Dusty, c’mon, you have to know-“ Eli paused, looking at Noah. “You gotta know how important you’ve been to us.”_

_“How important you **are** to us,” Noah adds. There’s a beat where Dusty looks at them both, mouth twisted into an expression they’ve never seen before, before he shakes his head._

_“Shut up,” Dusty commands. “I’ll walk you down the aisle, kid. Don’t say I never do anything for you.” He takes a long sip of his beer as if to end the conversation, but Noah can see how pleased he is, how his hand shakes a little as he puts his bottle down, how he rubs at his eyes when he thinks they aren’t watching._

_“Sure thing Dusty,” Noah says agreeably. “No problem.”_

“I just want this to be perfect for you guys,” Eli breathes, almost too quiet for Noah to hear. Noah hides the soft smile that wants to appear and instead just bumps their shoulders together, taking strength in what he always has - the steady presence of his brother beside him.

“You’re an asshole,” Noah says affectionately. “Now be quiet, my husband’s coming.”

Luke is walked down the aisle by Holden and Lily, and Noah knows that he’s now got more parental figures than he knows what to do with. Holden’s steady warmth and strength and Lily’s unending kindness and generosity have meant so much to both Noah and Elijah over the years. Their status as honorary Snyders becomes permanent today and both Mayer boys couldn’t be more pleased about it.

_“So does being identical twins mean we can’t ever tell you apart?” Natalie seems pretty concerned about this fact as they’re all seated around or on the couch at the farm, Faith holding court from the big arm chair and Ethan doing his part to treat them all like a jungle gym._

_“There are little ways that we look different,” Eli reassures her. He leans forward and rolls up one of his sleeves. “Look, here I’ve got this little birthmark, and Noah doesn’t have one.” Natalie traces it with curiousity and then without words, imperiously demands Noah offer his arm up. He does so gladly and she inspects them both._

_“Noah has a freckle over his eyebrow,” Faith says suddenly, and it’s clear she’s been peering back and forth between them like a live version of Check and Double Check from a Highlights magazine._

_“Nailed it,” Noah says, offering a fist bump as reward. Faith returns it, looking pleased._

_“Can Luke tell you apart?” Natalie asks and Noah grins over at Luke, who’s managed to gather Ethan up in his arms and entertain him for a few moments by bouncing him on his knees._

_“It took a little time,” Luke admits, making a face. Ethan giggles and makes one back._

_“But now he always knows,” Noah says, resting his chin on his hand, content to just watch Luke. Luke flushes but watches him right back. There’s a long moment where Noah thinks he couldn’t be happier and then his brother kicks him in the back._

_“Stop being gross, the children don’t deserve to see that.” Noah looks over his shoulder at Eli, who just beams in response. Noah can’t call him an asshole in front of the kids, but he supposes sitting on Eli’s toes will have to be fair enough retribution. “Ow! Ow.”_

And then he and Luke are up in front of a priest, holding hands, staring at one another and part of Noah thinks _this isn’t real. This isn’t my life_. He imagines that old truck he had at 18, the _tick tick_ sound of the turn signal right before he and Eli took that left off the army base, toward Illinois, toward college, toward freedom, _toward Luke_. All he can think for a moment is _what if what if what if_ \- but he can see Luke’s expression, his raised eyebrows and his quirked lip and knows that Luke is staring at him and thinking, _this is your life, now get over it and let’s get going._

The priest speaks and Noah is meant to be listening, he knows, but he is far too absorbed in watching his almost-husband watch him. There is nothing that Noah does not know about the face across from him, no expression of Luke’s that Noah cannot read and recognize and interpret. Luke’s quickly shifting moods and emotions have been a trip and a half for the years they’ve been together but Noah has enjoyed every second of getting to know this man, of being the privileged one that knows him best of all. And he feels a unimaginable thrill, so full of pride to know that Luke is that person for him - that there’s someone out there who is an expert in the pieces that make up Noah Mayer.

“Luke and Noah have elected to write and read their own vows,” the priest says finally and Noah raises an eyebrow at Luke, who raises one right back. He hears a snicker from somewhere in their wedding party - Faith who is close enough to see their expressions and knows them both well enough to know what’s coming next.

They rock, paper, scissors for a split second and despite a brief, momentary tussle over _on shoot_ or _after shoot_ , Luke is the winner and clears his throat.

“I met the Mayer boys on my first day of freedom from the Snyder horde,” Luke begins, and there’s immediate laughter from the crowd. Luke shoots a wink at his parents and grandmother before continuing, “And it wasn’t love at first sight, because one, I saw Elijah first,” More laughter, especially after Eli pretends to flex, “And two, because I thought I was seeing double.” Luke smiles up at Noah and Noah rolls his eyes. “But I quickly learned to tell the difference. One might say I was highly motivated to tell you two apart,” Luke says with that smirk that Noah loves and hates in equal measure, because he has very little power against it. 

Luke’s voice goes soft and intent for a moment, “Because I absolutely wanted the sweet, nerdy, careful, kind, logical, protective, gay one,” Luke winks, “to be my boyfriend, and as nice as your brother is, I wasn’t going to waste my best flirting on him.” Noah doesn’t have to look behind him to know that Elijah is making a face at him. Noah doesn’t want to look anywhere but at Luke, who is positively shining. 

“I picked well,” Luke continues, more quietly now, “because that sweet, nerdy, kind boy became the best man I’ve ever known. And all along the way of him figuring out who he was meant to be, he always stopped to make sure I was happy, that I was following my dreams, that I was doing everything in my own power to be my best self. And I can never thank him enough for that.” There are tears in Luke’s eyes now and Noah can feel them in his own. He doesn’t want to look away and he doesn’t want to blink - not for a single second. His grip goes tight around Luke’s hands and he feels Luke squeeze back. 

“I can never thank you enough for prioritizing not just my health and wellbeing, but my growth. It has always been important to you that I get to be the person I want to be and that, even when it’s hard, or when the world is telling me no, that I listen to the deepest, quietest voice inside and follow that to where I need to go. And I’m just so happy to have been led to you, Noah Mayer. I love you.” Luke’s smile is the soft, quiet one that Noah loves, the one he sees right before they go to bed, curled around each other with only the moon to see by. He wants to taste it, wants to draw Luke close and kiss him breathless, but he knows its his turn to tell Luke just how important and wonderful he is and he wouldn’t want to deny that to his almost-husband.

“Can I just say,” Noah says hoarsely, clearing his throat, “same here? And leave it at that?” The crowd laughs wetly, he can hear the sound of blowing noses and people digging through bags for tissues and he lets himself take a deep breath. “No? That’s not going to work?” Luke makes a dissenting noise and wrinkles his nose and Noah huffs a laugh. “Okay, all right, I’ll think of something else.”

Noah takes a deep breath. “Luke was very generous in not mentioning it, but the first time we met, I couldn’t even get my name out.” He smiles at the laughter he hears. “It’s true, I was so tongue tied by his smile, his laugh, everything - I don’t even remember if I introduced myself. I was - well, I wasn’t in a great place, and I told myself, over and over again, that this man was out of my league.” Luke shook his head like he couldn’t keep himself from reacting to those words and Noah tugged one of Luke’s hands in his up to his lips and pressed a quick kiss there. “I was sure that the person I was - lost, poor, aimless - was never going to be the kind of person who deserved someone like Luke.”

“And although I still think I’m the lucky one in this deal we’re making here in front of all these really nicely dressed people,” Noah suppressed a smile, “Luke has done everything in his power to help me see that I’m important, that I matter. That the things that I want and the way that I am are important considerations. That I deserve to be considered,” Noah blinks hard, squeezing at Luke’s hands again, “That I deserve to be seen, as I am.” He lets out a shaky breath, “It’s an incredible thing to have someone know you better than anyone else and to love you for all the pieces, even the parts not fit for company.”

“I love you Luke Snyder, every single inch, every bit and piece, and I can’t imagine a life without you.” Noah’s tearing up again, but he knows they’re only seconds away from being husbands, so he just takes a shuddery breath and tugs Luke even closer, all tender hands and greedy joy for what’s to come.

“Well, lucky for you bubby, it’s just the beginning,” Luke murmurs as they press together, his hands wrapping around to rest at the small of Noah’s back, brown eyes meeting blue. Luke’s voice is all wonder and delight and adoration and Noah wants to drown in it. The anticipation of the moment is almost too much, Noah’s hands shake as they go to cup Luke’s cheeks. One slides back to rest against Luke’s neck, brushing the collar of his suit with his knuckles.

The priest pronounces them husbands and they don’t even hear the cheering, so involved are they in pressing close and tasting each other’s breath. Luke makes a helpless noise into his mouth and Noah’s skin sparks where he can feel the heat of Luke’s hands pressing in. When they pull away, Luke looks up at him, eyes dark and mouth pink. Noah misses kissing him almost immediately.

“You can be gross and make out later,” Eli calls to them over the cheering crowd. “Get out of here so we can all leave!” Noah and Luke both make faces at him and he makes one right back, sending the wedding party into peals of laughter.

“He’s your brother now too,” Noah says, murmuring against Luke’s ear as they turn to face the applause and tears of their friends and family.

“I have enough of those,” Luke replies, “Can I exchange him for something else? Do you still have the receipt?”

“You’d have to send us both back, we came as a pair,” Noah says, just to make Luke snort.

“Well, can’t do that, guess I’m stuck with both of you.” Luke shrugs helplessly.

Noah chokes on a laugh. “The Snyder-Mayers. Stuck together forever.” He feels more than hears Eli’s laughter at his back, his brother’s hand dropped on his shoulder. Noah has Luke’s hand tucked in his and he has to admit - stuck together might not be the most romantic of sentiments, but with Luke at his side and his brother at his back, Noah very much appreciates the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we made it to the end! special thanks to me myself and i for making my life harder by procrastinating. additional thanks goes to me again for beta'ing this not at all. (if you spot a typo/something weird, just let me know!)
> 
> but the real MVPs are the Nuke Anon Secret Santa crew! thank you lovelies for year after year never failing to make sure i write at least one fic, because these boys cannot be denied. thank you for helping our little tugboat of a ship sail off into the sunset over and over again, even years later. y'all are the absolute best xoxo
> 
> thanks for reading! happy holidays! i can be found @[thebeccaroo](https://twitter.com/thebeccaroo) on twitter or @[strictlybecca](http://strictlybecca.tumblr.com) on tumblr for future fun times or prompts or stuff <3

**Author's Note:**

> this is so close to the wire that it probably (definitely) counts as late, so many many apologies my dear! honestly bijou, every single one of your prompts was perfect and something i could've written happily but this prompt grabbed me and then ran a marathon so i'm still trying to catch up.
> 
> happy holidays! let me know what you think!


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